


Amuse-Bouche

by sleepydanceur



Series: Jongin's Birthday Fic Countdown [4]
Category: EXO (Band), SHINee
Genre: Alternate Universe - Chefs, Brief Mention of Blood, M/M, Porn, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-08
Updated: 2016-01-08
Packaged: 2018-05-12 15:01:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,956
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5670181
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sleepydanceur/pseuds/sleepydanceur
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt: 'Esteemed rival chefs find each other shamefully buying ramen at 3 in the morning!AU'</p>
            </blockquote>





	Amuse-Bouche

**Author's Note:**

> D-6
> 
> Amuse-Bouche - A complimentary, bite-sized portion of food served before a meal or between courses in a restaurant.

The kitchen is in full swing by the time all the guests in the large dining room have settled into their seats at their tables. The CEO of one of the largest wine businesses in the city is holding a charity event at the Jewel five star hotel, hiring two of the best chefs in town and their brigades to take care of their menu for the evening. 

“Alright everyone, there’s almost a hundred people out there and we need to get through three courses before the night is over so let’s make it good!” Jongin calls out, tightening his apron and looks over the first order that comes in. 

He can hear another set of orders being called out in the conjoined kitchen beside his own, hosting the other brigade of chefs. Taemin’s brigade. His biggest competition in probably the entire country. The CEO had asked for them both specifically, saying it would look good for publicity if they collaborated on this.

It reminds Jongin of the first time he got paired up with Taemin back in culinary school, trying to sort between feeling silently impressed and incredibly competitive. He could easily recognize the same look in Taemin’s eyes, and they spent the entire term trying to outdo each other. Admittedly, Jongin enjoyed the healthy rivalry, sneaking grins at Taemin across the kitchens when they had timed assignments in class, all of which Taemin returned. Jongin’s got his own achievements to show for his efforts after school anyway, with six Michelin stars marking all his work to date so far. 

The event goes along without a hitch, pushing the dishes out smoothly and coping well with the number of orders coming in. By the end of the event, both kitchens are showered with praise, even earning themselves an applause for all their work on the delicious gourmet food they served throughout the evening. Jongin smile proudly at his team, happy with everyone’s delivery as always. Still, it’s a relief to finally be done for the night, even though there’s still another couple of hours worth of cleaning up the kitchens.

It’s pushing on three in the morning when they all finally call it a night and Jongin pushes the door open to a twenty four hour convenience store, completely worn out and, ironically, starving. He steps inside quickly, shivering from the freezing cold outside. It’s been a long day of fine dining, and Jongin is ready to just wind down with something simple.

Shaking the snow out of his hair, he trudges along the aisles tiredly, scanning the contents. The shelves stacking the ramen cups are all the way at the very back, and Jongin takes his time choosing the flavour he’s in the mood for. He goes for chicken, giving the bored salesgirl the exact change before heading off to find a stool by the window table when his ramen is ready.

Tearing the wrapper open hungrily, he dips his chopsticks in and scoops up a giant clump of dripping noodles and shoves it all into his mouth. For all his years of studying gourmet and fine dining, even travelling the world to taste a wider variety of foods and delicacies, cheap convenience store ramen will always be his biggest guilty pleasure. Guilty enough that he’d come here at three in the goddamn morning instead of heading straight home to make sure no one would see him indulging himself like this. His hidden stash at home has run out anyway. Jongin can’t even to fathom how he would even begin to save his reputation if anyone ever found out what their top esteemed chef’s diet was like.

The slurping sound to his right catches his attention, and of all people he thought he’d see chewing on cheap noodles at the other end of the counter, the last person he'd expected was _Taemin_.

Taemin seems to sense his stare because he looks up from his food and freezes when he spots Jongin, nearly choking on his mouthful. They gape at each other in frozen silence for a long moment that seems to stretch on forever. Jongin brain shuts down on him when he tries to come up with something to say.

Taemin finally breaks the gaze and sets his chopsticks down on his cup of ramen, sliding off the stool and disappears around the stacked shelves of food for a moment. He's back in a couple of minutes holding two bottles of soju, and slides one over to Jongin when he settles back into his seat.

"I think we’ll need to be a lot less sober for this, right?" Taemin says, holding the neck of his bottle out. Jongin snorts and clinks their drinks together before taking a long swig, wincing at the burning sear of the alcohol down his throat.

"Didn't realise you had a taste for convenience store ramen," Jongin remarks, picking at the peeling label on his bottle.

"I could say the same for you," Taemin throws back, pointedly eyeing the steaming cup in front of Jongin.

Jongin stares at the soggy noodles swimming around in the soup. “Cheat day?”

Taemin snorts good naturedly and raises his bottle in apparent agreement before taking another swig.

“I saw your beef rib-eye going out to the dining room earlier. Nice presentation,” he comments offhandedly. He’s staring out the window at the empty street, but there’s no mockery or sarcasm in his tone.

“Thanks,” Jongin says around a mouthful of noodles, pleasantly surprised at the sudden compliment. “Your crayfish ravioli looked great too.”

Taemin smiles at him and slides his chair a little closer so they can chat properly. 

 

It’s freezing when they stumble out of the store onto the street, several bottles of soju later. Taemin tightens the scarf around his neck while Jongin settles for pulling his hood over his head. Taemin is scuffing the tip of his shoe on the sidewalk idly, his mouth curved into a small smile at nothing in particular.

Jongin can’t help it. He tugs Taemin closer by his scarf and presses their lips together, boldened by the edge running through him from the alcohol.

“Always wondered what that’d feel like,” he murmurs against Taemin’s lips. It comes off a whole lot more like a confession than curiosity and Taemin grins, drawing him back in to kiss him properly. 

“My white bean soup is still better,” he breathes and Jongin shoves him back, ducking down to scoop up a handful of snow and dumps it into the collar of his jacket. Taemin squawks, arching his back to keep his skin away from the cold, wiggling around to get it out of his clothes. 

“Asshole,” he grunts even with the grin still stretching across his face. “You should come over to my place. We’ll have a proper cook off.”

He yanks Jongin’s hood all the way down over his face before he can say anything, and takes off just like that. Jongin watches him wobble his way around the corner before turning to head back home, blinking hard to get the spinning to stop. The warm tingle in his lips stays with him the whole way back.

 

Stepping onto the cobbled path leading up to Taemin’s front door is the last thing that would have crossed Jongin’s mind a week ago. He’s seen pictures of the house before, in magazine spreads with excerpts from interviews with Taemin. Seeing it up close though; the camera lens clearly doesn’t do it justice. 

He shifts the bottle of wine to his other hand and knocks on the door, hastily shuffling into the envelope of warmth inside when it buzzes open.

“Come on in!”

Jongin marvels silently at the interior as he heads over to the kitchen where Taemin is tying the straps of his apron around his back. 

“Nice place,” Jongin says simply, setting the wine bottle down on the marble counter. He recognizes the Rokusaburo Michiba knife set Taemin has spread out on the table, polished to perfection.

“Thanks,” Taemin grins, picking up the bottle to read the label. “Ah. Pomerol’s Château La Pointe. You really do know your wine.” 

Jongin rolls his eyes and grabs the apron hanging over the back of the kitchen chair, presumably having been left there for him. 

“Your flirting is rusty,” Taemin raises his palms apologetically when Jongin picks up one of the knives, testing out its weight. 

The supposed cook off turns into more of a synchronized joint effort after Taemin seasons Jongin’s Hanwoo beef and Jongin reaches around him to flip Taemin’s scallops. Despite their usual banter elsewhere, they’re perfectly in tune in the kitchen, moving around each other and finishing off the final touches to each other’s dishes with the smoothness of a dance choreography. Taemin sets up some music in the background at some point, humming under his breath as he makes space for Jongin to put his lamb chops in the oven. 

They don’t talk about the kiss from last night, even though Jongin is certain that Taemin remembers it. They weren’t that out of it that it would just slip his mind. The way Taemin brushes past him to get to the sink, pressing into him a little too close for such a big kitchen might be a hint for something but Jongin doesn’t bring it up. Instead, he tucks Taemin’s hair behind his ear when it keeps falling into his eyes stubbornly; only because Taemin’s hands are occupied with the white cabbage kimchi he’s mixing. 

It feels like a throwback to their cooking school days when they’d both run into each other, staying up late at night in the kitchens to practice and perfect their skills. It was hard not to feel that constant spark of competitiveness towards each other, both being top of their class. Jongin would rather have had the kitchen to himself, but begrudgingly admitted to needing someone to taste his food, and Taemin clearly shared the same idea. 

Taemin brings the last dish over and they both survey the gorgeous spread they’ve set up on the table, pleased with their work.

“Not too shabby, Kim,” Taemin quips and Jongin swats him with the dish cloth in his hands, biting back a smile of his own. 

They take a seat around the table and Taemin brings the wine over to fill their glasses, raising his up to clink with Jongin’s. Quite the upgrade from last night’s snack.

The food is delicious of course, and Taemin’s scallops are as exquisite as the critics say, not that Jongin had expected anything less. It’s been a long time since they shared a proper meal together, one that wasn’t practice cooking in the dead of the night. They’ve come a long way since then. 

Taemin trails off his comment about French pastries and stares at his hand curiously, eyeing the white scar Jongin has running along the inside of his thumb. 

“Where’d you get that one?” he asks with interest. 

Jongin glances down at it, surprised. “Thailand. Needed a last minute order of Som Tam and brought the knife down too quickly.”

“What about you?” he asks, seeing the spread of Taemin’s own nicks and scars across his hands.

“Well, this was from a stubborn piece of Tandoori chicken,” Taemin grins, showing him the crescent shape on his forefinger. “I don’t really do Indian much. You’d like it, their spices are incredible.” 

He’s as well traveled as Jongin, even if they haven’t visited the same places. Taemin seems particularly interested in Jongin’s time in Argentina and Slovenia that earned him the burns on his palm, listening attentively while he eats. Taemin’s knuckle burn scar takes them to the month he’d spent in Malaysia, telling Jongin all about the restaurants and food shops he’d managed to cram in his time there.

“Actually, this one’s from back in school,” Jongin says when Taemin asks about the line cutting across the side of his pinky. 

“Oh shit, yeah, I remember that,” Taemin sniggers, reaching out to turn Jongin’s hand over to look at the familiar scar better. “Couldn’t get the blood to stop. Totally ruined your lobster”

Jongin laughs at the memory of his own clumsiness, back when they were still starting out. He falls silent but Taemin holds onto his hand a little longer, tracing over the raised skin softly with his thumb. Their eyes meet when he looks up and Jongin’s hand tingles when Taemin pulls away to reach out for the wine instead.

They refill their glasses again and again after the food is gone, going through the entire bottle and Jongin feels that pleasant buzz that comes with a full stomach and enough alcohol in his system. He keeps sneaking glances at Taemin and catches his doing the same until they’re not even trying to hide it anymore.

Taemin finally pushes his glass away and stands up, ambling over to Jongin’s chair and drops down in his lap, straddling him with a lazy smile. 

“You’re so fucking hot,” he says, brushing Jongin’s hair back. Jongin lets his hands wander around his waist to squeeze Taemin’s ass, arching his neck up to nose at Taemin’s jaw. Dipping down, Taemin kisses him, languid and warm, drawing it out a little longer before he slides off Jongin’s lap. 

Instead he kneels between Jongin’s legs, pulling his zipper open and tugs his pants and underwear down just enough to free his cock. Jongin sucks in a sharp breath when Taemin kisses the tip, his head spinning a little at how fast this is going and how aroused he is. Taemin doesn’t waste any time, sucking the head into his mouth and takes him in deeper, pressing his tongue against the underside of his cock. Jongin hisses, his eyes fluttering and the spark of heat it sends curling in his gut.

Taemin bobs his head at a quick pace, his lips meeting the tight ring of his fingers around the base. His mouth is hot and feels fucking incredible; there’s no way Jongin’s going to last much longer with the way he’s hollowing his cheeks around him. Jongin throws his head back with a groan, squeezing his eyes shut and feels the burn of his release searing in the pit of his stomach. He arches off the chair when Taemin swallows around him, one hand braced on his seat and the other buried in Taemin’s hair. Jongin tries to pull out but Taemin holds him still with his hands on his thighs and swallows again until Jongin comes down his throat.

“Fuck,” Jongin pants, still trying to catch his breath. It’s a little hard to do when Taemin licks his lips like that and Jongin feels his cock stirring again. 

It hits him a beat later that Taemin hasn’t come yet, and Jongin kicks his pants off before getting to his feet, backing him up against the table and slips a hand into his pants, stroking him into full hardness. Taemin leans forward, pressing his nose into Jongin’s throat to muffle his moans.

By the time Taemin bends him over the table and pushes inside, Jongin is fully hard again, aching for Taemin’s touch. Taemin fucks him with an arm crossed around his chest to keep him close, mouthing along his shoulder and the back of his neck, punctuating every swivel of his hips with a kiss. Jongin’s elbow buckles on the table when Taemin pushes in deeper, keening even as he loses his balance.

It hits an abrupt stop when Taemin pulls out and Jongin throws him an incredulous stare over his shoulder right before Taemin turns him around and hoists him up onto the table. The push back in makes Jongin’s breath stutter, his eyes rolling into his head when Taemin hits the right spot on the first thrust. 

He hangs on to Taemin with an arm thrown around his neck, squeezing his thighs tighter into Taemin’s sides. The sharp sound of ceramic clacking on the floor nearly draws his focus away but Taemin snaps his hips up harder and Jongin gasps, his fingers tightening in Taemin’s hair. He comes again when Taemin kisses him, swallowing his moan and nipping his lip lightly. It only take a few more ruts before Taemin’s back arches and he goes rigid when his orgasm washes over him, moaning against Jongin’s cheek. 

He slumps on Jongin tiredly when he comes down from his high, and Jongin holds him steady, kissing the side of his face fondly. Taemin seems content to let him keep going, wrapping his arms around his back loosely with a sigh, pinching his ass to get a rise out of him. Eventually though, he draws himself away to roll the condom off and helps Jongin slip off the table, a little unsteady on his feet. 

Grabbing a handful of napkins, he cleans them both up, pressing a kiss to Jongin’s clavicle as he goes. Jongin chuckles, tugging him closer and brings their mouths together again, palming the back of his neck. 

They forego their pants, past the point of modesty enough at this stage to only need their underwear back on as they clean up the mess they’ve made. A couple of plates have been knocked off the table, spilling some leftover food on the floor. Taemin is too tired to clean up thoroughly, dumping everything in the kitchen sink for later and tugs Jongin away when he tries to grab a sponge. 

“So uh,” Taemin squeezes his fingers idly with a smile, a faint flush blooming across his cheeks, confident and radiant. Jongin has never once seen the barest hint of shyness on Taemin’s face. “I have Netflix.”

Jongin snorts, pressing their mouths together again softly. “And a shower.”

Taemin beams.


End file.
